Intimate Partner Violence in LGBTQ Lives

Janice L. Ristock

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2011
• eBook ISBN: 9781136812071
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Social Sciences
• Subtopic: Gender Studies
• Index: Social Sciences

Queer lives remain at the margins of most academic inquiry into domestic violence. When same-sex violence is considered, it is most commonly as an "added on, " without close attention to the specificity and meaning of violence within the lives of lesbian/ gay/ bisexual/ transgender/Two-Spirit and queer people (LGBTQ). This edited volume seeks to change this discourse by bringing together the most innovative research about intimate partner violence that is specific to the lives of LGBTQ people. Including contributions based on research conducted in the United States, the United Kingdom, Canada and Australia, the volume is framed around central themes: conceptualizing violence; exploring differing spaces and lived experiences of violence; and the ethical challenges of responding to violence. The contributors also consider issues of race, class, gender, sexuality and other social differences, moving beyond a simple gender lens to one involving a framework of intersectionality.

1 Introduction

Intimate Partner Violence in LGBTQ Lives

Janice L. Ristock

A sensationalized headline about violence in same-sex relationships appeared in the Canadian national newspaper The Globe and Mail: “A skeleton that’s still in the closet: Domestic violence is more widespread among same-sex couples than straights” (Anderssen 2008). There was a full two-page story in the newspaper that was based on the results of a Statistics Canada report on violence and victimization. On the one hand, relationship violence is a serious issue and it was powerful to read about the needs of a small population covered in a national newspaper, but on the other hand the headline reflected an underlying pathologizing discourse that represents lesbian/gay/bisexual/transgender/queer (LGBTQ) people as not just facing issues similar to those of straight people—but even worse. This kind of mainstreaming of LGBTQ issues serves more to exploit an already marginalized subpopulation than to integrate the issue of same-sex intimate partner violence into public discourse about relationships and family life, and offers little insight into the specific contexts of life for LGBTQ people.

It was, however, more than a sensationalized headline: the story was based on the results of a Statistics Canada survey on violence and victimization that for the first time asked respondents to identify their sexual orientation. With its large sample size of 23,766 randomly selected respondents, it seemed authoritative, although buried in the story was the figure that only 356 of those respondents identified as gay, lesbian or bisexual (they did not ask about transgendered identities). The survey asked about experiences of violence in relationships as well as violence and discrimination in public settings. They found, not surprisingly, that gays, lesbians, and bisexuals reported higher rates of violent victimization (sexual and physical assault and robbery) and discrimination than their heterosexual counterparts, which is consistent with other social science studies that report high rates of violence experienced by LGBTQ people. For example, survey research has found that 20% of women and 25% of men have experienced victimization based on their sexual orientation and another study found 60% of all transsexual/transgender people have been victimized by hate violence (Ristock and Timbang 2005).

The headline news, though, was that Statistics Canada found that 15% of gay men and lesbians and 28% of bisexuals reported being abused by a partner in the last five years, in comparison to only 7% of heterosexuals. The message seemed clear: an impressively large Statistics Canada study had proven that LGBTQ relationships are much more violent than straight ones. The story suggested that the odds were one in six or seven of being victimized if one were in a same-sex relationship, but there are many problems with these truth claims.

First and foremost, they did not ask survey respondents if the abuse they were reporting actually took place within a same-sex relationship, or in an earlier, or current, straight one. So we have to ask: What do these statistics really tell us? In this study, higher rates of victimization were indeed reported by gay, lesbian, and bisexual people, but we cannot say that violence in same-sex relationships is more widespread because we do not know that the violence they reported in this survey occurred in a same-sex relationship.

Further, unlike other surveys, in this one there was no differentiation between types of violence (physical, emotional, sexual). Nor was there any attention to gender (differing experiences of gay men, lesbians, bisexual women, bisexual men). Buried in a footnote in the original report, and nowhere to be seen in the newspaper story, is the disclosure that LGB female respondents were combined with LGB male respondents in this huge study because there were not enough lesbians to meet the criteria (typically 25) for conducting statistically significant analysis.

Other large comparative survey studies that include lesbians, gays, and bisexuals have paid attention to differences. A report based on the U.S. National Violence Against Women Survey (Tjaden and Thoennes 2000) compared intimate partner victimization rates between same-sex and opposite sex couples. They conducted a telephone survey with a nationally representative sample of 8,000 women and 8,000 men about their experiences as victims of various forms of violence including intimate partner violence. They found that women living with female intimate partners experience less intimate partner violence than women living with male intimate partners. Nearly 25% of surveyed women said they were raped and/or physically assaulted by their male partner. Slightly more than 11% of the women who lived with a woman reported being raped, physically assaulted, and/or stalked by their female intimate partner. On the other hand, men living with male intimate partners reported more violence than men who lived with female intimate partners. Approximately 15% of the men who have lived with a male intimate partner reported being raped, physically assaulted, and/or stalked by a male partner while 7.7% of men who lived with women reported such violence by their female partner.

We know from other research that there are some specific abusive behaviors that reflect a larger context of homophobia, biphobia, transphobia, and heterosexism surrounding LGBTQ relationships. These behaviors include, for example, threats to reveal the sexual or gender identity of a partner to one’s boss, landlord, or family member; threats to jeopardize custody of children because of a person’s sexual or gender identity; threats to jeopardize immigration because of sexual orientation, and/or threats to reveal the HIV/AIDS status of a partner (Ristock and Timbang 2005). The impact of this larger context on LGBTQ lives cannot be underestimated.

The patterns and differences in experiences of violence in heterosexual and LGBTQ relationships need to be carefully examined (and the experiences of transgender persons need to be included) if our motive is to develop the best understandings, interventions, and prevention strategies. It has been my view, based on my research and community-based work on this issue, that all relationship violence is not the same, and that we can therefore not treat all cases of relationship violence as equivalent and interchangeable (Ristock 2002). While a few studies have reported that many LGBTQ peoples’ perceptions are that violence in same sex relationships is the same as violence in heterosexual relationships (Distefano 2009: Hester and Donovan 2009) we have yet to research and fully interrogate the impact of differing levels of severity and types of abuse and the differing motivational factors for abusive behaviors. A recent study by Amanda Robinson and James Rowlands (2009) for example, exposes the differing risk profiles of gay male victimization and lesbian perpetration of violence that is currently not captured by generic models of risk assessment used in domestic violence agencies that assume homogeneity in experiences.

It is encouraging that several important studies have been conducted in a number of different countries that show the need to consider the specific contexts and spaces in which people experience relationship violence (see for example, Distefano 2009; Holmes 2009; Irwin 2008). Research has been exploring the impact of contexts such as one or both partners dealing with a stigmatized illness such as HIV/AIDS; the effects of alcohol and drug use; social isolation in rural communities; experiences of dislocation as recent immigrants; and experiences of the combined effects of racism, classism, and violence by intimate partners, by communities, and by the state. Although these differing contexts and spaces are not exhaustive and may overlap with one another, they reveal the ways that violence is connected to structural factors that create and sustain inequalities and disadvantages (Ristock and Timbang 2005).

Beth E. Richie (2005) reminds us of the importance of examining social, political, historical, and geographic contexts when she states:

[I]s partner abuse different for lesbians when those relationships are not even recognized by the state? How does federalism leave Native women vulnerable to abuse on reservations in this country? What is the relationship between U.S.-sponsored war in developing countries and violence against women abroad as well as in the United States … By not even raising complex issues, we seriously threaten the authenticity, the legitimacy and relevance of the anti-violence movement and the success we ascribe to it. (xvi)

This volume raises complex issues and brings together a collection of innovative research and community practice in the area of intimate partner violence (IPV) that is specific to the lives of LGBTQ people. While research on same-sex partner violence has been steadily increasing since the late 1980s, the majority of the literature focuses on lesbian couples, and mainly considers the experiences and needs of those who have been victimized, while very little work addresses trans experiences or those who engage in abusive behaviors. The field remains, at best, an “add on” to the field of heterosexual domestic violence, in part because the pattern of male violence against women remains so strong, but also because a focus on queer lives continues to be at the margins of most academic research. Attention to violence in LGBTQ relationships raises critical questions about the usefulness of the dominant gender paradigm used to understand heterosexual domestic violence, challenges binary categories of gender (male/female) and sexual identity (gay/straight) and raises many complexities about how to best categorize, understand, and respond to violence in peoples’ relationships. These questions are addressed in differing ways by the authors in this collection.

This volume brings forward innovative, previously unpublished contributions that are organized around three central themes: framing and conceptualizing violence; exploring the lived experiences of violence; and responding to violence. It includes both conceptual and empirical work; a range of disciplinary and theoretical perspectives; and contributions from academics, practitioners, and activists.

Part I begins by exploring ways of framing the issue of intimate partner violence in LGBTQ lives. In looking at the historical conceptualizations of partner violence we have certainly moved a long way from the issue of “wife assault” as it was once called 35–40 years ago, but debates on how to best name and categorize experiences of violence remain. The terms “domestic violence” and “intimate partner violence” (IPV) are acknowledged as troublesome even though they are used throughout this volume. Both terms have been criticized for reinforcing a public/private dichotomy that makes visible certain types of violence (private, in the home, in certain types of relationships) while erasing other forms of violence (state violence, colonialism, racialized violence). Further, while naming relationship violence in LGBTQ lives as something different from heterosexual IPV can expose the normative assumptions built into the dominant paradigms of the field, using the unified category of “LGBTQ” partner violence can minimize the specificity of experiences of, for example, gay men of color, Aboriginal lesbians, and trans people. Of course the language of same-sex partner can be, as Durish states in her chapter “problematic at best and offensive at worst” given that the term conflates gender and sexual orientation. Considering how best to frame and conceptualize intimate partner violence then, requires us to think critically about the assumptions embedded in our language and requires us to be more aware of the limitations of what we are able to see and know as a result of our framings.

The first chapter in this part, written by Kierrynn Davis and Nel Glass, takes up the “similarity versus differences” debate in which some research and community groups argue that the extent, nature, and consequences of violence in the lives of heterosexual and same-sex couples is the same while others are critical of this as an additive and homogenizing view that ignores key differences in experiences and socio-historical contexts that affect people’s experiences. Using a postmodern intersectional framework, Davis and Glass argue for the need to move beyond heteronormative constructions of violence. Using three different women’s stories of lesbian relationship violence, their analysis considers the intersection of both the micro and macro physics of power and control within the three relationships and within the responses from communities. What their analysis brings forward is the different dimensions of abuse that would have remained masked had a heteronormative gaze been maintained. The chapter by Diane Hiebert-Murphy, Janice Ristock and Douglas Brownridge critically interrogates the construct of being “at risk” for violence that is often used as a framework for understanding partner violence. Drawing on qualitative interviews where women in same sex relationships spoke about their perceptions of what it means to be “at risk” for violence, their chapter stresses the need to consider the differing social locations and the broader social context that might place women at risk for violence. An intersectionality framework that challenges us to move away from acknowledging only one pattern of IPV and from relying on either/or binary thinking is considered in relation to a framework of risk. The final chapter in Part I challenges the convenient use of an LGBTQ lens to show that we cannot homogenize queer lives when speaking about LGBTQ partner violence. Joshua Goldberg and Caroline White further trouble our understanding of both sexuality and gender in their critical reflections on their experiences as educators in the field of trans anti-violence. Their chapter raises provocative questions about how and where transgender lives fit in research, theorizing, and community practice in the field of IPV when we insist on relying on established binary categories of same-sex and heterosexual relationships.

The second part of the volume takes a closer look at the range and diversity of LGBTQ lives and experiences of violence. It brings forward cutting edge research (both qualitative and survey research) in Canada, the United States, the United Kingdom, and Australia. The authors of the chapters represent different disciplines (social work, nursing, psychology, policy studies) and community organizations. Some chapters demonstrate the need to understand the differing contexts in which violence occurs, while others pay attention to the impact of dominate discourses on relationship violence. The chapter by Catherine Donovan and Marianne Hester explores “discourses of love” that cut across gender and sexuality in their examination of abuse stories of heterosexual, gay, and lesbian relationships. They argue that to understand the dynamics of domestic violence it may be more necessary to see who is doing the “emotion work” and who is exploiting those feelings and practices of love in the relationship. Maurice Poon examines the dominant discourses and constructions of “victim and perpetrator” in the literature on gay male partner abuse. In particular he exposes the focus on individual pathology that permeates the area, making it difficult to fully understand a range of contextual factors that contribute to abusive behavior. Carroll Smith’s chapter presents the narratives of twelve lesbians who had formerly abused their partners. Resisting overly simplistic binaries of good/bad, innocent/evil when analyzing their narratives, Smith provides an intimate portrayal of the women and conveys the complexities in each of their lives, reminding us that there is not one construct of an abusive person. Adding to this focus on how we understand perpetrators is the chapter by Nicola Brown who explores partner abuse in trans communities. In examining trans people as both victims and perpetrators of relationship violence, Brown’s research, like Smith’s and Poon’s, disrupts the binaries of victim/abuser, powerless/powerful and calls for greater attention to the complexity of power relations in abusive relationships. What stands out is that some of her participants could not even conceptualize their trans partner’s behavior as abusive because they saw him as socially oppressed and without power, and in the dominant gender-based paradigm it is only those in positions of power who are abusive. Interestingly, Jesmen Mendoza then examines the role of minority stress in gay men’s experiences of relationship violence and reports on his survey research findings that internalized homophobia, discrimination, and stigma all seem to contribute to gay men’s use of violence towards their partners. Finally, the chapter by David Pantalone, Keren Lehavot, Jane Simoni and Karina Walters reports on a qualitative study that examines relationship violence experienced by sexual minority men living with HIV. In exploring the “pathways” that led to their abuse experiences and to the vulnerability to HIV, the men’s narratives reveal the impact of structural factors such as poverty and a context of trauma throughout their lives that included childhood instability, exposure to violence (in communities, in families, on the street), rejection due to their sexual or gender minority status, and mental health issues.

The final part, “Responding to Relationship Violence”, addresses the ethical challenges of responding to the diverse range of experiences that are so clearly illuminated by the chapters in Part II. Here contributors write from differing locations as community educators, service providers, counselors, researchers, and activists. They bring forward many important initiatives that have been developed to respond to IPV while also being aware of the limitations of these efforts to address those at the margins of mainstream, urban LGBTQ communities. Cindy Holmes critically reflects on her work as an educator in an innovative community-based violence prevention program that delivered a healthy relationship curriculum for queer women. Her chapter examines how hegemonic norms, neo liberal discourses, and technologies of governance end up being relied upon and reinforced in same-sex/gender violence prevention discourses about what is healthy and unhealthy in relationships despite efforts to destabilize normalizing and exclusionary effects. Patricia Durish reflects on her work with the David Kelley Service Same-Sex Partner Abuse Project that operated in Toronto, Canada. Durish both documents and critically reflects on what was accomplished in the survey research, educational work, and advocacy that was undertaken over the...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Halftitle
• Title
• Copyright
• Contents
• 1. Introduction: Intimate Partner Violence in LGBTQ Lives
• PART I. Framings
• PART II. LGBTQ Lives
• PART III. Responding to Relationship Violence: An Ethical Challenge
• Contributors
• Index